Pins and Needles

I stand upside down on a bed
of pins, their soulless selves
thirsting for the shrinking
spirit within me.

Sultry sirens slowly disrobe,
stopping the rhythm of my
fingers, my breath trapped
outside my chest.

Ice slips from my
non-grip, as my
unmoving eyes watch,
unable to help.

The ice drips, like all
else about me that is melting
away, never to return.

What is left are small
rocks in my cerebrum,
thoughts and words
imploding within.

White-robed muses
draw rouge from my
veins, leaving me with
the exquisite pain from
needles I once wielded.

Poetry by Arti
Read 1096 times
Written on 2007-01-14 at 15:32

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Farag M. Afify
Dear Arti .. really nice poem .. tools and words ... Thank you.

Kathy Lockhart
Arti! What can I say...
I am blown away again by your pen!

Arti, somehow this poem weilds power . It seems to hold me spellbound, gazing from the 'outside' into the torment of an 'inside' story! Love your way with words.

Zoya Zaidi
Anguish of tormented mind,
Steers thought to unknown
Vistas, where you cannot find
Solutions of problems scion
of bizarre and twisted kind!

(((Hugs, I hope you come out quickly from the mind bog, Arti!)))
Love, Zoya

Amanda K
you put it together differently. a distinguished work.

keep it up,

Wow Arti, I have always wondered about the bed of nails theory, you extol it perfectly in this dangerously painful poem of the tearing inner soul. Excellent work. I always feel better once it is out, hope you do too. I think the Pins and Needles title does not do this piece enough justice either! But the shock to the reader does! so surprise could be everything. Smiling at you, Tai